“Rhyming from a Shoe’s Shoe”.


I have walked miles on efficient spaces,
Have burnt myself in three Summers;
And also got frozen thrice under icy Winters,
Ooh…! I am an old man now;
Ageing to last for 36 months and still breathing.
But a reluctant ignorance these days,
Hesitantly makes my paranoia to wait,
For my accidental suicide someday,
Someday, when I would get torn off;
And worn out to be thrown;
To decay and die, someday…
Get buried and cradled in the neighboring dustbin.

Ooh..! I still remember,
My God happily paying a dowry of five Grands,
So arduously earned Gold coins of those days.
To buy and get me laid;
To break the virginity of my pure sole.
A pure sole back then,
Apparently, a poor Soul now;
Plainly wishes for my serving legacy to continue,
Continuing in my God…
And all other upcoming Gods’ kind donation.

Can never forget those 6 soaked months,
Going against the Dr. Cobbler’s healthy advice;
When the God and me got completely drenched,
And sinfully stamped to crush,
Few innocent paper boats unknowingly.
It must be because of that heinous curse,
Given on that rainy day;
By that crying kid in Monsoon’s porch;
For those two and half finely sewn threads of mine,
Had left my body yesterday.

And I hesitantly wait for my accidental suicide very soon,
Someday my doomsday under no Moon;
When I would get completely torn;
And badly worn out to be utterly thrown out;
To decay and die,
Get buried and cradled in the neighboring dustbin.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

You May Also Like

An Old Monk

A bud is plucked before could bloom, Friendly four corners snore of this room; What lives when that dies in whom, Leftover moist ashes of last monsoon. How whole about…
View Post

Someone New

Someone New Nine months pine to finally lay on cliffs Left hand on her waist gaits stiff His ceremonial orchestra waits for the first cry Days so many sleepless nights,…
View Post